


25 Days of Christmas

by angelfiregirl80



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Christmas, Christmas Caroling, Christmas Eve, Christmas Fluff, Christmas Party, Christmas Presents, Christmas Tree, Fairy Lights, First Kiss, First Time, Gladstone the Dog, M/M, Mistletoe, Sherlock's Violin
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-01
Updated: 2016-12-24
Packaged: 2018-09-03 14:37:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 10,904
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8717761
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/angelfiregirl80/pseuds/angelfiregirl80
Summary: 25 days of Christmas, 25 different Christmas days, form the very beggining to not the very end, but close to it. Hope you enjoy it. As always, the dissclaimer, do not own themThank you for the kudos, love the comments. Love you all, have a happy janu-xmas-everything- month!





	1. Down memory lane

**Author's Note:**

> 25 days of Christmas, 25 different Christmas days, form the very beggining to not the very end, but close to it. Hope you enjoy it. As always, the dissclaimer, do not own them
> 
> Thank you for the kudos, love the comments. Love you all, have a happy janu-xmas-everything- month!

“Seriously?” Sherlock groaned and tried to walk away from John’s tight hug

“Yup” John nodded and kissed his cheek “We’re decorating this year” He moved up the stairs, holding Sherlock close

“John…” Sherlock tried to wrestle his way out of John’s arms but relented in the end and allowed his husband to drag him up the stairs to John’s old bedroom

“We’re decorating, and that’s final” John mocked annoyance and turned the light of the room on “Now, help me find the box with the decorations” He looked around and walked straight to a box marked “Xmas”

“I hate it when Hamish tags the boxes” Sherlock groaned again “He ruins the English language with this…” He made a vague movement with his hand “contractions” He complained and let out a frustrated sigh

“If you’d bothered helping me store the decorations last years, you might have been able to tag the boxes yourself” John shot back and pulled the tree box carefully, like a jenga tile, out of a very unstable tower of boxes marked with Hamish and Isabelle’s names

“They should be here helping us, after all, this is the last Christmas we’ll be spending in London” Sherlock huffed and ran to help John before the tower of boxes tumbled on top of him

“Ha” John snorted “Your children are as willing to help us as they were last year” He shook his head and moved a few boxes to the now empty space left by the tree box.

“Remember our first Christmas together?” Sherlock had that look the -I’ll be taking my time down memory lane- look and John smiled fondly at him

“Of course I remember our first Christmas together” John huffed in annoyance “Bloody woman” He muttered

“Not that one, my love” Sherlock reached for John and hugged him close, kissing the shell of his ear “Our first Christmas together, as a couple” John could feel him smile against his neck

“Yes” John let out in whisper, I remember” He bit his lower lip and allowed the memories to flow back


	2. Our First Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This Christmas was a chance to get to know each other even more, Sherlock agreed to host a party with his parents “no drugging the punch” John had insisted, and John had called Harry and invited her over; even Mycroft was invited, Greg, Molly, Mike; even Bill and Major Sholto would come; Mary had agreed to allow little Isabelle to spend the evening with John, and of course, Mrs. Hudson will be there with her mince pies and mulled wine.

“Have you seen the thingy?”

“The what?” Sherlock turned on his heels and looked at John with bewilderment “You’ll have to be more specific as to what are you referring, John”

“The thingy that goes on top of the other thingy for the fairy lights”

“You just lost me, John” Sherlock huffed with annoyance and walked away from the living room

They’d been together less than a year, still adjusting to each other’s quirks, moods, moments… you name it. By now, Sherlock knew than even though John loved to sleep on the right side of the bed, he’ll wake up less grumpy and in less pain if he slept on the left side. By now, John already knew that Sherlock loved having his hair washed instead of washing it himself, and he would indulge him for hours, because he too, enjoyed the luscious feeling of touching Sherlock’s curls

But they were still learning, to communicate, to talk to each other, to fight without walking away, to hold each other through nightmares, to stop fearing the other will leave and never come back

This Christmas was a chance to get to know each other even more, Sherlock agreed to host a party with his parents “no drugging the punch” John had insisted, and John had called Harry and invited her over; even Mycroft was invited, Greg, Molly, Mike; even Bill and Major Sholto would come; Mary had agreed to allow little Isabelle to spend the evening with John, and of course, Mrs. Hudson will be there with her mince pies and mulled wine.

Finally, John found the thingy that goes with the thingy for the fairy lights and Sherlock helped him put them up, even though he complained and pouted the entire time, but John kissed him every single time he put on a fairy light or a bauble on the tree, with each kiss, the mighty pout will disappear, and Sherlock’s strop was over by the time the first guests arrived

Dinner was delicious, the guests had fun, shared mulled wine and gingerbread cookies, at midnight they opened Christmas crackers and exchanged gifts, Sherlock gave John a jumper, a blue one to match his eyes, and John gave Sherlock another scarf… gifts to show, that made them real… Sherlock managed not to be a total git and John was mostly relaxed, no bombs exploded, no women appeared asleep on Sherlock’s (their) bed and no maniac, demented blackmailer, or other, was threatening their lives

It truly was a wonderful first (third but who’s counting?) Christmas. Family and friends left by one, John made a duvet bed in front of the fire, Sherlock got the gift bag from their bedroom, and John saved a few mince pies to share with his love in front of the fire

“Happy Christmas, love” Sherlock handed John a box

“Happy Christmas, love” John handed Sherlock a bag

The box had all their cases turned into one whole book. It was about time ‘ _You write me so well_ ’ the inscription read and John dropped the book and launched himself in Sherlock’s arms

The bag contained cold cases, one very old and very intriguing that had been unsolved for over a hundred years. Sherlock knew exactly how to thank John and kissed him to oblivion right in front of the fire

Christmas morning found them tangled in each other, kissing, caressing, Sherlock’s deep voice wishing John a happy Christmas, John’s lips kissing Christmas wished all over Sherlock’s body.


	3. A Christmas gift for Hamish

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> As a Christmas gift for his parents, Hamish told him he was staying in London, studying both medicine and chemistry

In order to take Hamish’s mind out of which University to choose, John and Sherlock talked long and hard on what to give their soon to be sixteen years old. Unlike Isabelle, that knew from the very beginning what she wanted to study; Hamish was divided between Philosophy and Science, he wanted to be a doctor, like Papa, but also a chemist, like Dad, he wanted to study politics, like uncle Mycroft and at some point, he too, wanted to be a pirate

When Christmas arrived Hamish was distraught, he had chosen several universities, including a few abroad, thus breaking her parents’ hearts. Sherlock pretended not to be affected, whilst John wanted to make this, their last Christmas before Hamish left for university, the best   

“He’s no longer a child, John” Sherlock complained when John pointed to yet another model ship “We need to find something that he might enjoy, use, and that remind him of us every single time he sees it” Sherlock dismissed John’s idea with a flourish of his hand

“Then what are you suggesting, a car?” John huffed and walked away, looking inside another shop for the perfect for his sixteen years old

“That might be a good idea” Sherlock rubbed his chin in a pensive way

“We’re not giving our son a car” John exclaimed scandalized “He’ll turn sixteen in less than a week, we cannot, will not, give him a car” John was almost yelling

“I wasn’t suggesting a car, I just said it might be a good idea” Sherlock deflected John’s rebuttal and looked away. Suddenly, they both turned at the distinctive sound of a motorcycle and Sherlock smirked “I think we found the perfect gift” He smirked

“We’re not giving our son a motorcycle” John reached for Sherlock’s hand “And that’s final”

“You had a motorcycle, John” Sherlock said pointedly

“That was years ago” John looked at his husband with bewilderment

“That was eight months ago, my love” Sherlock shook his head and looked at his husband fondly, smiling down at him “And you only gave it up because you fell from it and almost broke your ankle” He leaned down and kissed John on the lips

“Fine” John tried to huff but the kiss was just perfect and John didn’t have it in him to keep on fighting with Sherlock “A motorcycle it is” He did a very disgraceful moue and Sherlock kissed him again

Suffice to say, Hamish had one of the best Christmas ever, John promised to teach him to ride, as a bonus gift. As a Christmas gift for his parents, Hamish told him he was staying in London, studying both medicine and chemistry


	4. Isabelle’s Christmas Carol

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Happy Christmas, Daddy and Dad... I love you”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So sorry for the late updtae but I've finished writting my "Around the World" fic... I'll be publishing the last chapters in the afternoon...  
> Thank you to whoever is reading this for your kindness and for waiting for me to update. Hope you enjoy it... Love you all

They were excited, it was Isabelle’s first piano solo at school. She’d been practising for weeks to no end, getting the best of her parents, but they never let her know they were about to throw the piano down the window.

The Christmas before last, Sherlock had announced he was buying Mrs. Turner flat and that he was expanding 221 B. John was glad, they were already cluttered with two children, and the more they grew more interests they had, Isabelle’s love for piano music, just one of many.

Daddy Sher had practised with her for hours, he would play the violin and lead her to her solo and the little girl tried with all his might. Sherlock would sing when he finished playing thus directing her and giving her the cues for her to start or stop playing. John had to leave the flat, he was done with Carol of the Bells, and if he had to listen to the song one more time he would gladly chew his own head off.

Her solo started at the first “ding dong, ding dong” and would end at “Hark how the bells” She would repeat the song with her father and John would find them practising whenever he came back from the surgery or the hospital; he would smile politely, sit for a while in the living room, smile at his poor husband and ran away at the first excuse to buy milk, food, or whatever.

Sherlock, on the other hand, was growing more and more frustrated, his fingers would ache, his voice will be hoarse, but he’ll do whatever needed to be done in order to make his little girl happy. The presentation was for the day before Christmas, and a very nervous Bell would make a lot of mistakes while playing until 24 hours before the “blessed” event

The day in question, Sherlock and John went to Bell’s school and sat right where Bell could see them, Mycroft, Greg, Molly, Grandma, Grandpa, Mish and half the yarders were there to watch her play. She was very nervous but the moment the music started, she could see her father fiddle with the program right in front of her; she took a deep breath and started playing, her eyes fixed on Sherlock, watching as he silently sang and helped her play.

The world stopped, it was just them, with Daddy John looking at them intently, a wide smile spread on his face and her little brother, for once, not making a face at her. The concert ended, she played with all her heart, and she followed her classmates through every single carol they played.

By the end of the concert Sherlock was waiting for her, arms wide open, a proud smile on his face; Daddy John was holding a huge bouquet of white roses

“That was the best Christmas present ever” Daddy Sher rubbed her back

“It was more than I expected” Daddy John kneeled next to them and captured them both in a hug

“Happy Christmas, Daddy and Dad... I love you” She whispered


	5. John’s favourite Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John was ten. It was a week before Christmas and their parents decided to spend the holidays in Sussex.

John was ten. It was a week before Christmas and their parents decided to spend the holidays in Sussex. Harry was sixteen, she was in full teenage mood, but she was willing to go to Sussex and forget all about her latest break up. Mum and Dad had no idea she had just broken up with a girl, just John knew she liked girls, and he kept quiet under threat, though he didn’t know what the big deal was…

They arrived to a cottage near the woods and it was already decorated for Christmas, John was excited because all the decoration meant that there might be other children around for him to play, he followed his parents to their rooms and then is when he saw him. He was little, lithe, unruly raven curls all over his head and carrying a book bigger than himself… John felt something crawl inside his stomach, as if he had swallowed a million butterflies and now they were trying to bust out of him

The boy disappeared around the corner, and when John went to find him, he was gone. John thought he was hallucinating… he still hadn’t quite grasped the concept of the word, but his sister repeated it… constantly… not that he knew what that meant either but it made sense… She repeated the word like a parrot and John thought she was the one hallucinating…

He was putting his clothes down in the drawer when he felt a gust of wind coming from his door, he turned and there he was, his hallucination, standing at the door frame, big book in his left hand, a model… something… it looked like a helicopter but it was round… and full of wings… in his right hand, and he was looking at his as if he were an alien

“Hello?” John greeted shyly and the boy cocked his head to the side and kept looking at him “My name is John” he approached slowly as if facing a nervous rabbit or mouse, worried the boy might bolt… whatever that meant

“William” The tiny voice made its appearance accompanied by a tiny, pink tongue that passed over his upper lip licking the remains of some sugar “Want a ginger biscuit?” William put the big book between his thighs and put his hand in his pocket, when he got it out he had a napkin full of ginger biscuits in his tiny hand. John nodded and grabbed one, accidentally touching William’s fingers and feeling a zap of electricity hit him like a thunderbolt… and before he could react, the boy had disappeared

This happened every day until Christmas morning came, they had shared a few biscuits, John had asked about the big book and the model and William had just shrugged, John had told him about his sister, his father, his mother, his friends in London and that his favourite things, medicine, military, boats, helicopters, and that he was going to be a doctor, William listened to him, cocking a brow, or his head, sharing another biscuit to make him talk and then he’ll bolt and be gone

Christmas morning John received many gifts, his mother gave him a model helicopter and his father a tank, the cottage owner gave him a tin of ginger biscuits, because she knew he liked them and he was utterly happy to have all these present and these treats. But the best present was to find William waiting for him, up in his room, a little picnic on his bed, another tin of ginger biscuits, milk, the giant book gift wrapped and the model… something… inside a box… John smiled and he felt his heart stop and race faster at the same time… John had something for William too, John’s undivided devotion and love, all wrapped in a tiny piece of foil, he had drawn a heart with his name in it and he handed it to William

William smiled, shared a few more biscuits and disappeared… The next day they left, John carrying the big book and what now he knew was Da Vinci’s helicopter, filled with little heart under the wings… He took it to the war and the day he moved to Baker he had the perfect place for it… Next to skull in the mantel and then he saw it… A little heart with his name… Carefully kept between two pieces of glass…  


	6. Sherlock’s favourite Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock was eight, he was forced to go to Sussex because his grandmother was there

Sherlock was eight, he was forced to go to Sussex because his grandmother was there and he had sulked the entire time, to his annoyance the day he arrived, another family arrived, guests of his father… the woman in question, the mother he assumed, worked for his father and he wanted to treat her for her good working by inviting them all to the cottage… sentiment… whatever that meant, Mycroft used to repeat that constantly… whatever constantly meant… he was like a broken record and all he kept saying was that caring was not an advantage…

Sherlock knew why his brother was so heartbroken… he was fifteen and in love with the much older stable boy… Mummy found out and the stable boy was gone before they could even think about it, and a stable woman came to take his place… Mycroft became an unbearable git, yes William knew perfectly well what it meant… and kept repeating the caring was not an advantage and loads of crap… and yes William knew perfectly what that meant… about sentiment …

He was going to his room to hide before his mother forced him to greet the family in question when he saw him, blonde, taller than he was, sturdy... whatever that meant, he had heard Mycroft say that about the stable boy… ocean like eyes and a nice smile… William felt something in his tummy, like butterflies, as if he had swallowed a million butterflies and now they were trying to bust out of him.

He ran to the kitchen and found cook there, she handed him a plate of ginger biscuits, he put them in a napkin and ran back to the boy’s room… He was nervous, he had no idea why, and then the boy spoke… John, his name was John… William introduced himself and somehow managed to offer a biscuit… John took it and accidentally grazed his fingers, Sherlock felt like a zap of electricity run over his body, as if he had just been hit by a thunderbolt… before John could say anything he disappeared and hid in his room… he needed to sort this… sentiment

He visited John every day, he couldn’t find his voice but heard John tell him all about him, his family, his dreams and wishes. Morning Christmas came and he gift wrapped his book and his Da Vinci helicopter model, he had built it himself and had drawn little hearts under the wings… After the gift exchange… he wasn’t there, of course, he had said boring and his mother hadn’t insisted… he prepared everything, he went to the kitchen, stole a tin of ginger biscuits, milk and two glasses and went to John’s room. The moment he saw John he felt his heart race and stop at the same time, he smiled shyly and offered the little banquet

John handed him something simple, wrapped in tin foil, it was a drawing of a heart with John’s name in it… It was the best gift ever… John’s heart. When he moved to Baker he found the perfect place for that gift, years ago he had called in a favour and had the little heart placed between two glasses. He put it in the mantel, next to the skull… He came up the stairs, after a little chat with Hudders and he saw it, over the mantel, his Da Vinci helicopter model… He lifted it softly and found the tiny hearts


	7. Their favourite Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock took the cup from John’s hand and placed it back on the coffee table, reaching for the throw blanket in the back on the sofa and wrapping it around the both of them. He hugged John close and kissed his temple “Happy Christmas, love” He kissed the words on John’s forehead  
> “Happy Christmas” John mumbled against Sherlock’s neck

The house was silent, Hamish had finally gone to sleep and Bell had been down for over two hours. John was in the kitchen preparing some tea and Sherlock was picking the remains of gift wrapping paper left behind by their little girl.

Sherlock sat on the sofa, watching the fire dance and feeling the way the warmth invaded his body, he felt it in his toes and fingers, going up his arms and legs until the warmth reached his heart. He felt John approach, his skin bristled and his heart jumped inside his ribcage

John placed the cups on the coffee table silently and sat next to his husband. He rested his head on the back of the sofa and closed his eyes. He didn’t need to open them to know Sherlock was looking at him, he felt it on his skin, a shiver running down his spine, and excitement pooling low in his stomach

Sherlock caressed John’s cheek softly and John opened his eyes smiling at his husband “Tired?” He asked his fingers running up to play with John’s hair

“A bit” John leaned into his touch and closed his eyes again

Sherlock reached for the tea and pushed John’s cup in his hands. It was still warm, the fire making the living room cosy and making them feel warm and sleepy

“Should we go to bed?” Sherlock reached for John’s free hand and kissed it

“Just a bit more” John answered half asleep, leaning close to Sherlock and resting his head on his shoulder

Sherlock took the cup from John’s hand and placed it back on the coffee table, reaching for the throw blanket in the back on the sofa and wrapping it around the both of them. He hugged John close and kissed his temple “Happy Christmas, love” He kissed the words on John’s forehead

“Happy Christmas” John mumbled against Sherlock’s neck

Morning found them where they stayed, curled around each other in a hug, their kids at their feet playing silently, letting Daddy and Papa sleep for a little while longer


	8. Thank God for mistletoe

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What?” Sherlock answered angrily “Are you going to tell me it was all about the mistletoe?”

John wanted to kiss Sherlock, Sherlock wanted to kiss John. They’ve had several “close calls” in the past couple of weeks but something -or someone- always happened and their attempt would be frustrated

In order to help them finally kiss, Mrs. Hudson hung mistletoe all over the flat, but there was always somebody else with them and it seemed that the stars were against them, there was always receiving a kiss either from Sherlock or John right under the mistletoe

Finally, the day came when the both reached the top of the stairs together, stood under the mistletoe and where forced to kiss. John blushed deeply, looked away and covered his mouth. Sherlock bolted down the stairs finding it hard to even breathe

John followed him, of course he did and Sherlock tried to run as fast as he can, bit somehow, John managed to follow him find him and grab his hand in a desperate attempt to stop him, or at the very least slow him down

Sherlock was crying, frustration tears rolling down his cheeks “Sherlock, stop! Please!” John’s voice was broken and that made Sherlock turn

“What?” Sherlock answered angrily “Are you going to tell me it was all about the mistletoe?”

“No, you idiot!” John reached for him and pulled him into a searing kiss “I was going to say…” John was breathless

“Thank God for mistletoe” Sherlock pulled John by his lapels and kissed him again


	9. Under the fairy lights

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> To Sherlock’s surprise John was there, sitting on his chair, watching the fairy lights turn on and off in a sequence. He had a tumbler on his left hand and his head rested on his right… Sherlock picked his violin and started playing “White Christmas”, John’s favourite

It was close to midnight… Sherlock couldn’t sleep; he turned and tossed in his bed as he kept on thinking about John, about that look he had given him whilst he was under the mistletoe… Sherlock had no idea about human emotions, sentiment was as foreign as need to him; but he found himself loving John, wanting to be with him, and feeling alone, confused, jealous, and other emotions he couldn’t define; and most times, he couldn’t handle

Sherlock was sure about that look… It was a wistful look, filled with love, lust, need, want… hunger… He had seen the lust before when John looked at the blonde one… what was her name? He had seen love in his eyes once… just today, when he looked at his sister… Now that Sherlock knew he was wanted, needed, lusted after and loved… well… too much information, not enough data… his mind palace was being taken down to its foundation…

He got up from the bed and put on his dressing gown, he decided to play his violin and think, but he remembered John asking him not to play after midnight… he was willing to do whatever was needed to keep John happy...

To Sherlock’s surprise John was there, sitting on his chair, watching the fairy lights turn on and off in a sequence. He had a tumbler on his left hand and his head rested on his right… Sherlock picked his violin and started playing “White Christmas”, John’s favourite

Suddenly, arms were wrapped around his waist, lips were on his neck… violin forgotten and just the fairy lights surrounding them. Before Sherlock knew it, he was under the tree, under John, under the fairy light, being kissed to oblivion by the only man he ever wanted to kiss him again

“I love you” John whispered in his ear as he thrusted in him

“I love you” Sherlock answered back, panting in John’s ear

Sherlock stared up to the fairy lights; he was wrapped in John’s arms, breathing slowly, his mind palace shattered… John moved and hugged him impossibly closer “Morning love. Happy Christmas” He said running a hand up and down Sherlock’s back

‘Indeed it is’ Sherlock thought “Happy Christmas, love” He replied to John’s neck and furrowed closer, closing his eyes and following the sequence of the fairy lights


	10. The Christmas tree

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock turned away and ten seconds later he shouted John’s name excitedly “Come, love! Over here! John!” He called. John went over and there it was, the perfect Christmas tree, green, tall, big, but what was more perfect than anything was Sherlock’s smile

“We have to pick one!” John crossed his arms over his chest and gave Sherlock one of his -move it or I’ll kill you- looks

“But this one isn’t green enough, and the other one you wanted to choose wasn’t big enough for all our decorations” Sherlock retorted, avoiding at all cost John’s eyes

“Pick.One.Sherlock.Holmes” John said through greeted teeth and Sherlock turned to look at him

“I want it to be perfect, John!” Sherlock turned back and kept on looking to the trees that surrounded him

“I’m fucking freezing, Sherlock. Please!” John rubbed his arms with his gloved hands and let out an annoyed and frustrated huff

“Sorry, love” Sherlock turned and walked to John. He took off his coat and put it over John’s shoulders “I promise that as soon as I find the perfect one, we’ll go home and get all warm and cosy” He leaned close and kissed John’s freezing cheek

“Your nose is cold” John squirmed and burrowed in Sherlock’s coat Fine…” He huffed and kissed Sherlock’s nose

Sherlock turned away and ten seconds later he shouted John’s name excitedly “Come, love! Over here! John!” He called. John went over and there it was, the perfect Christmas tree, green, tall, big, but what was more perfect than anything was Sherlock’s smile

They walked back home, to Baker. They climbed the stairs, set the tree, decorated it with white fairy lights and silver baubles, several doves, winged fairies and silvery little trains and cars. By the end of the night, the tree was absolutely perfect, it fitted wonderfully in their living room, and the blinking fairy lights seemed to dance along with the fire over the windows and walls

Bell’s face was priceless and Mish’s excitement was incomparable. Sherlock had done it again; he had found the perfect Christmas tree for his children


	11. The Christmas fiasco

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After their tenth anniversary John gave Sherlock the heart he had made all those years ago for their first real Christmas together… By then, Sherlock happily allowed John to surprise him, gift him with whatever he wanted, and not once tried to deduce what was inside the package or what was wrapped in the beautiful paper…

John was pissed! He had planned the Christmas gift for months, he had thought about it since July after his birthday and the wonderful gift Sherlock had given him. He had thought hard and long about the gift, about what could be thoughtful, interesting and let’s face it, not boring for his madman.

John called Molly and she helped him with what he wanted. She handed him the heart and John asked her to please give him time to work on the project. He followed the procedure and managed to plastinate it to perfection, he cut the sections and organised a sort of… diorama… every single part of the heart was visible; and if you turned the glass box just to the right point, you could see the heart as if it wasn’t sliced.

John was excited; he truly hoped Sherlock would enjoy the Christmas gift… He put it under the tree, amongst other things, such as gloves -Sherlock kept losing them to the Thames, stupid criminals that ended up cutting the gloves -thank god!- and once or twice to failed experiment -please, don’t ask… really, don’t ask…- socks, which ran the same misfortune as the gloves, mostly lost to the Thames and a few scarfs… the last one was lost after suffering an injury… silly John, he ran after the perpetrator and fell on his side, cutting his leg deeply -no harm done to bones, muscles and the sort, luckily!- 

He waited anxiously for Christmas morning, he had diverted every single question Sherlock had made about his whereabouts while he was preparing the heart, he had even managed to avoid running in to him a few times while at Molly’s lab…

Christmas morning came, Sherlock handed him gloves… lost causes as much as his own… socks… Thames had claimed them a few times… another scarf… Sherlock’s fault this time and the gash in the back of his head caused by a moron that tried to crack his skull with a lead pipe… A new notebook, a fountain pen with his initials and book John had been eyeing for quite some time… who says Sherlock is not a sentimental fool?

But his excitement lasted very little… The idiot he was currently dating was a… prick… yeah, that’s the word! A PRICK! Every time John handed him a gift, Sherlock would shake the box, feel the packet, smell it, even taste it… A PRICK! And he would tell John “Oh love, thank you for the (insert gift here) without even opening the freaking package!!! PRICK!!!

John decided, ta the last minute, not to give Sherlock the heart, he didn’t want his efforts go to waste… He was actually tired of the self-sufficient prick and wanted nothing but for Christmas to be over

“What about that last box?” Sherlock asked curiously eyeing the last box under the tree

“Oh, nothing” John shrugged and walked away to the kitchen

“What do you mean by “nothing”?” Sherlock followed John

“Just something stupid I made for you, but…” He shrugged again, non-committaly

“But’” Sherlock tried for John to look at him

“It’s nothing Sherlock, really” John handed him a cup of tea and went to sit on his chair

“Would you let me open?” Sherlock asked eagerly

“What for?” John shrugged again “You’ll guess what it is without even opening it…” He sniffed “You just took all the fun out of opening Christmas gifts…” John sighed

“I…” Sherlock sat in front of John, feeling absolutely dejected

“It’s fine… I should’ve known” John tried to smile “Now I know better…” He tried to chuckle but it was more a frustrated huff “Next year we’ll have a nice dinner, maybe a nice port or something and we’ll go to bed early…” John put the cup down and got up “I’m going out for a little” He walked to the door “Happy Christmas, love” John left a befuddled Sherlock to his own thoughts

After their tenth anniversary John gave Sherlock the heart he had made all those years ago for their first real Christmas together… By then, Sherlock happily allowed John to surprise him, gift him with whatever he wanted, and not once tried to deduce what was inside the package or what was wrapped in the beautiful paper…

When Sherlock received the heart it was the best gift ever, he wasn’t expecting to receive it, or to even be worthy of such a gift… In the end, the surprise wasn’t the gift, was the fact that John trusted him enough to give him something that had been hidden for over ten years; something John knew will surprise him


	12. Once upon a Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Sherlock” The boy threw the three snowballs at John and laughed again  
> “John” John covered his face, barely, and avoided the last snowball hitting him right in the face

It was meant to be, sooner or later, it had to happen…  The universe was plotting for it to happen, because, it has to happen… too many lives, too many stories… far too many sad endings…

But it was finally here, it was finally the time… The universe had made everything perfect and they were to find each other, at last.

Seventeen years old John threw a snowball and it hit the curly boy right in the back of his head. He tried to hide but it was too late, the curly boy was faster and John found himself defending his last position behind a tree. Then, John heard it, the most wonderful sound ever! He peeked to the side and saw the curly boy laughing and smiling, holding three snowballs at the same time

John was lost… His stomach fluttered and flipped, his heart started racing, his hands started sweating and he couldn’t stop smiling. He giggled and then laughed hard, much like the curly boy was doing

“Sherlock” The boy threw the three snowballs at John and laughed again

“John” John covered his face, barely, and avoided the last snowball hitting him right in the face

Sherlock, the fifteen years old, looked at John up and down and his heart did something funny in his chest… It stopped, then raced… His stomach flipped and fluttered, his hands were trembling and all he could do to hide that was pick some more snow and create a few more snowballs

“Tomorrow?” John asked and Sherlock nodded. John ran away before Sherlock had the chance to throw another ball at him

The next day, and for a week, they had their very private snowball war, laughing, talking and getting to know each other.

Christmas morning arrived; John was there, waiting for Sherlock, a snowball in his hands. Before he could do anything, he found himself lying on the snow, Sherlock on top of him, looking down. The kiss was breath-taking and he surrendered to it…

“Happy Christmas, John” Sherlock smiled down at John and before John could respond Sherlock dropped a huge snowball on his head, laughing harder than ever, all John could do was laugh too and pull the git down for another kiss


	13. Christmas at the grandparents

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Wouldn’t be Christmas if you remembered to bring everything”

It was that time of the year again. The kids were happy to go to Sussex and share with their grandparents. Everything was planned, bags were packed and all they had to do was get in time to get the train. But as usual, no matter how much they planned their trip to Sussex, something was always amiss, be it the bag with the gifts, diapers, bottles, Hamish… once or twice… the dog… once or twice too… Bell… just once… well… twice… the keys to the house in Sussex, the keys to Baker… You name it, they forgot and only realised when they were late for the train -leaving the keys and Hamish happened just once and John realised they had forgotten their son as soon as they arrived to the station… In Sussex-

This year was no different, they had everything planned. John was in charge of Bell and her things; Sherlock was in charge of Hamish and his stuff. John was in charge of the gift’s bag, Sherlock had the keys and the both had the dog. Strangely, they arrived right in time for the train and were about to embark when John realised what they had forgotten

“Did you buy the tickets?” He looked at his husband, eyes narrowed and annoyance in his every feature

“You said you’ll get the tickets” Sherlock glanced at him accusatorily

“I said I’ll get the car”

“I got the car”

“I was supposed to get the car” John sighed in frustration

“That was last year, love” Sherlock huffed

“No, that was this year!” John retorted and Sherlock shook his head vehemently “I was supposed to get the car this year” John pulled out his list and covered his mouth his hand when he read he was actually in charge of buying the train tickets “I was supposed to get the tickets” He looked down and away, rubbing his forehead with the palm of his free hand

“Don’t worry, love” Sherlock leaned close and kissed his cheek “I’ll fix it” He said, like he always did when they faced some sort of problem… Last time… when Hamish… He called his brother and he was in a helicopter, back in Baker in no time. This time was no different. The ubiquitous black car was at the station before they knew it… Mycroft and Greg were there too… the price for the ride… During the trip, Sherlock asked “his people” to leave their car at their home. As he promised, all was solved

The moment they arrived, Violet and Siger were waiting for them at the door of their home. The moment she saw them, Violet shook her head and smiled at them

“What was it this time?” She asked her son and he just shook his head and chuckled

“Tickets” John huffed and then laughed heartily “My bad this time” He kept on laughing with such mirth that Sherlock couldn’t help but kiss him soundly on the lips

“Wouldn’t be Christmas if you remembered to bring everything” Siger patted his son on the back and walked in the house before them

They looked at each other and just laughed, Siger was right… It wouldn’t be Christmas if the remembered to bring everything


	14. Before John

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Sherlock hated Christmas, he could say he has always hated it, but that wouldn’t be the truth. The only Christmas Sherlock has loved is the one when his parents gifted him with a puppy, little Redbeard, his best friend, his first mate, his one and only companion. But the happiness of that Christmas was tainted by on absence in his life; his brother Mycroft had left for Uni and he was only able to be home for a few days… Sherlock would have said he was devastated, and he was, but he still had to understand the true meaning of the word.

Sherlock hated Christmas, he could say he has always hated it, but that wouldn’t be the truth. The only Christmas Sherlock has loved is the one when his parents gifted him with a puppy, little Redbeard, his best friend, his first mate, his one and only companion. But the happiness of that Christmas was tainted by on absence in his life; his brother Mycroft had left for Uni and he was only able to be home for a few days… Sherlock would have said he was devastated, and he was, but he still had to understand the true meaning of the word.

When he was sixteen, he left for Uni and was unable to come back home for Christmas. Mummy was devastated, Daddy was devastated too, Mycroft just said that caring is not an advantage and wished him a “Happy Christmas”, which was the last time he wanted to hear about his brother, he had left him… again… Sherlock swore never to celebrate Christmas the same way.

When he was twenty, he spent Christmas at a dose house, he was Shezza, and Shezza didn’t celebrate Christmas. He had no idea it was Christmas until his dealer told him so and handed him a free bag with cocaine ‘Second best Christmas’ Shezza thought and grabbed the little bag tightly in his hand

When he was twenty five, Sherlock found himself in a rehab centre for the umpteenth time. He was in an island, Shezza gone… at least for the time being… and he could see Mycroft and Lestrade ‘That was his last name, right?’ discussing about his latest “adventures”. He figured he could leave the centre quite easily, but the proposal Lestrade made was too good for him to pass and he got clean ‘Best Christmas ever’ Sherlock thought and fixed his eyes on the fairy lights that decorated the hall

Sherlock was twenty nine. He’d been clean for over a year, Greg was getting him more cases with each passing month, and before Sherlock knew it he was solving one of the best cases he had seen. “The Christmas Murders” the news had called them, a crazy Saint Nick on a killing rampage, Sherlock had found him in a toy store, studying his new victim. There was a chase, running on rooftops and getting the murderer before the moronic yarders were even able to follow him ‘this is a real Christmas gift!’ Sherlock smiled as the murderer was handcuffed


	15. Before Sherlock

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At thirty one John was sitting at his bedsit, his Browning in his hands, he was looking down at the barrel, wondering what would happen if he just used the gun… He had turned his phone off, the lights at the bedsit off too. He decided to take a walk and ended up in the park, sitting on a bench watching the snow fall, the fairy light blinking at him in a rhythm, and a violin playing “White Christmas”… ‘I can’t believe it’s already Christmas’ John thought and got lost in the music, the lights and the snow

John was eleven and his parents had told him Mummy was sick… They told him right before Christmas… Needless to say that wasn’t exactly the best Christmas, but it was a nice Christmas because Mummy was still there and knitted a jumper for him, his Dad bought him a model helicopter and Harry wasn’t drunk. It truly was a nice Christmas, even though it wasn’t precisely happy

When John was eighteen he was ready for Uni. He was moving to London and Dad promised to visit him as soon as possible. Christmas came and Dad was there, he wasn’t drunk, for a change… ‘It’s a good Christmas’ John thought, as he served more tea for his father and sat in front of him

When John was twenty five he was in Sandhurst, he was unable to go home for Christmas, but he called his Dad and was surprised to find Harry there with him. Dad was very sick, but she was there with him… ‘It’s a good Christmas’ John thought before wishing his Dad and sister a Happy Christmas

At twenty eight John was in Afghanistan. He was under siege, a mission to Kandahar… He had rescued several soldiers, saved the lives of a few more. He was currently sewing a man’s forehead when one of the nurses… ‘Was Bill his name?’ came with a spring of mistletoe ‘Wherever in hell had he found mistletoe in the middle of the desert?’ and started kissing the female staff. John just chuckled and thought ‘It seems like it’ll be a nice Christmas’

At thirty one John was sitting at his bedsit, his Browning in his hands, he was looking down at the barrel, wondering what would happen if he just used the gun… He had turned his phone off, the lights at the bedsit off too. He decided to take a walk and ended up in the park, sitting on a bench watching the snow fall, the fairy light blinking at him in a rhythm, and a violin playing “White Christmas”… ‘I can’t believe it’s already Christmas’ John thought and got lost in the music, the lights and the snow     


	16. A puppy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John, Hamish and Isabelle had planned it perfectly. Sherlock had been talking about Redbeard for the past month and a half and his family took it as a hint to get him a puppy.

John, Hamish and Isabelle had planned it perfectly. Sherlock had been talking about Redbeard for the past month and a half and his family took it as a hint to get him a puppy.

They discussed long and hard… A basset hound, a setter, a pincher… they decided to get a bulldog and let Sherlock name him… They talked to the neighbours. Uncle Greg was willing to help, and Uncle Myc kept it in their home… They had everything planned, they’ll arrive to Sussex by Christmas Eve and in the morning; they’ll have the little puppy in the living room waiting for him

Christmas Eve came; Sherlock was eyeing his family curiously, and was even more surprised that Mycroft and Greg were there to celebrate with them. In the early morning he heard some sounds, but John manged to keep him… busy… and…well… distracted while his brother in law let the puppy in the living room, under the tree…

Sherlock walked down the stairs to the living room, still flushed and a little breathless from his… hum… distraction… and he saw it… the most beautiful little puppy he had ever seen. John walked behind him and kissed his shoulder “Like it?” He asked and all Sherlock could do was nod and turn in John’s arms. He kissed him deeply before running to the living room and picking the puppy in his arms

“Happy Christmas, Gladstone” He said, and nuzzled its little stomach


	17. Wings for Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bell was on that phase… The Thinker Bell phase… John had made a mistake and he had left the little girl on the telly watching one of those Disney movies and now all she wanted was to be a fairy…

Bell was on that phase… The Thinker Bell phase… John had made a mistake and he had left the little girl on the telly watching one of those Disney movies and now all she wanted was to be a fairy…

Sherlock, being Sherlock, had bought all he could find about this seemingly famous Thinker Bell, and she had asked to be called so, “Little Thinker Bell” Although the “little” could be omitted… John, on the other hand… well… he had bought fairy costumes, wands, even fairy dust for their little girl, without omitting the little.

Christmas came, and she wanted her fairy wings. Sherlock, being Sherlock, was willing to give her whatever she wanted “You’re a child once in your life” He had said when John chastised him for giving in to every one of her whims

He couldn’t find fairy wings anywhere. He found angel wings, butterfly wings, red noses, antlers; even those bizarre Star Wars… was it? characters John loved so much, but no fairy wings…

Sherlock sat up in his chair, trully desperate, not knowing how to please his baby girl… He looked the wings up on the internet, he wanted to buy them wherever, and no matter the cost, but the delivery took over a week and he needed the wings for Christmas…

And then… John found him sitting right in front of the fireplace, tulle, green silk and bleu organza, some wires and coloured threads. His computer at his side and a woman speaking to the void, instructing her viewers on how to bend the wire before placing the tulle… Sherlock was in disarray, desperate; not knowing which one was the thimble and when he needed it…

John smiled fondly at him and approached his wonderful husband slowly. He rested his hands on his shoulders and Sherlock looked up, his desperate eyes telling John everything he needed to know

“You’re spoiling her” John said softly and sat next to him, taking picking several loose threads form his curls and caressing his cheek on the process “Okay” John let out a sighed chuckle “Let’s do this” He kissed Sherlock’s cheek and picked the wires

They worked almost all night, the final touches to the wings were given by the stroke of six, just in time before Bell came down the stairs looking for the wings she had asked Father Christmas for. They were tired and all they wanted was to go to bed, but as soon as they saw her face, her bright smile when she put her wings on, and the hugs she gave them before running down the stairs to show Mamie Martha her new wings, was all they needed to know they had done well, that they had made her happy. It truly was a Happy Christmas


	18. I want to be like Daddy for Christmas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> When Hamish came that morning and said he wanted “A kit to be like Daddy for Christmas” and asked for his “letter to Father Christmas to be delivered as soon as possible” they looked at each other and knew they were in trouble.

Hamish was five, and much like Bell did, he too had his phase… The -I want to be like Daddy- one. Unfortunately for them, just because of this particular phase, there were two daddies in this family, a chemist major that was mostly a consulting detective, who usually moonlighted as ghost hunter, monster chaser, princess to the stories and best friend to Mr. Teddy, his daughters’ bear; and an army doctor that was mostly the consulting detective’s blogger, who moonlighted as grocery shopper, food maker, story teller, prince and king to all the stories and best friend to Mr. Frog, his son’s dinosaur.

When Hamish came that morning and said he wanted “A kit to be like Daddy for Christmas” and asked for his “letter to Father Christmas to be delivered as soon as possible” they looked at each other and knew they were in trouble. Very delicately, John extricated himself from Sherlock’s arms and legs, grabbed his dressing gown to cover himself and kneeled in front of his son

“And which Daddy would you want to be like?” He asked softly and looked at Sherlock with worry in his eyes. Sherlock shook his head and smiled at his husband, John nodded and looked back at their son

“The two of you” Hamish rolled his eye in a very Sherlockian way, the “Duh. Daddy you’re an idiot” implied…

“You mean…” John cleared his throat and realised how complicated this was going to be

“I want to be a chemist army doctor detective” Hamish replied as calmly as he could to his silly daddy

John sighed deeply and looked at Sherlock again, he was now sitting at their bed, body covered as best as he could and looking at John with wide eyes… How in the hell you create a kit for a chemist army doctor detective? Oh well…

That afternoon they left the flat to find all they could to create the kit Hamish wanted. Sherlock found an old magnifier of his and he even bought the damned deerstalker hat, a rather tiny coat, quite similar to his own and chemistry set special for kids. John, on the other hand, found a tiny white lab coat, a stethoscope, a small pen light, just like his; a small doctor’s bag filled with cotton and tiny empty bottles. At night, they showed each other their findings and gathered them all in one bog package for Hamish

Christmas morning came, Hamish was excited to find such a huge gift under the tree, but the disappointment in his face when he opened it made Sherlock’s heart clench in his chest and John’s stomach plunge down to the deep

“And the case?” A dejected Hamish asked with a tiny sad voice

“The case?” They looked at each other

“The case, Daddy” Hamish looked at Sherlock intently

“A case?” Sherlock started pacing around their living room whilst John tried to calm their disappointed son down

“Could you please call uncle Greg and ask for one?” Hamish asked between sobs and it finally clicked… Sherlock pulled out his phone from his dressing gown pocket and called Greg

“Do you have a case for Hamish?” He asked, sounding quite desperate. Greg wasn’t even up and Mycroft groaned next to him when he heard his brother’s voice

“A case?” He asked, confused

“Yes, for Hamish” Sherlock repeated himself, a very rare occurrence

“Let me think” Greg sat up on his bed, looked at Mycroft and Mycroft blinked back, not knowing what to say “Okay…” Greg rubbed his face “I’ll create a crime scene, bring them in two hours”

They arrived to Mycroft’s place two hours later; a rabbit had been brutally maimed by an unknown force, his stuffing all over the place, no finger prints, no foot prints, and no DNA. It was a difficult case

“Finally” Hamish exclaimed “It’s Christmas” He grinned and fished for his pocket magnifier, just like Daddy usually does. Two hours later, and thanks to Molly, they were at the lab, he was wearing his tiny white lab coat and investigating the stuffing. There was a wild chase, he fixed Daddy’s injuries, much like Dad used to do and they arrested the culprit; a wild Chihuahua that was seeking revenge on the poor rabbit for using his seat…

Years later, if you asked Hamish, that was one of his best Christmas…


	19. Five Golden Rings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And the silly song goes?” Sherlock was holding John so close he could barely move  
> “What?” John asked Sherlock’s shoulder “What song?”  
> “That weird carol” John could sense Sherlock rolling his eyes  
> “Five golden rings?” John sing-sang the Christmas song

John found the box and his heart started thumping fast in his chest, blood rushing to his ears and down south… Sherlock was going to propose! He opened the box and found the most beautiful ring he had ever seen. It was a simple gold band and the engraving just said “The thrill of the chase” John put it back and started thinking about how Sherlock would propose to him, when. I f it was going to be a Christmas proposal or if it would be by New Year’s… He knew he should find a ring or something of a sort too, but…

Two days passed and they were invited to a dinner. Greg was proposing to Molly and John recognised the ring… He made the best effort he could not to be disappointed, he swallowed think and hard and just sat there, looking at the happy couple and the ring… his ring… being placed on someone else’s finger.

Early in the morning, still swallowing the disappointment, John went out of their bedroom to make some tea and he found another little box hidden in the coffee tin. His heart jumped again as he removed the tiny box and peeked inside. It was another golden ring, and it said “”It’s just the two of us”” Once again… John couldn’t help but daydream and get his hopes up once again… That afternoon, Mycroft was proposing to Lara and putting the ring on her finger right in front of John… This time, the disappointment was visible and he simply left the flat, unable to control his fury…

Four days later, and with Christmas approaching fast, John found yet another tint box in Sherlock’s shirt pocket. This time, though, he didn’t get his hopes up and put the beautiful ring with the “Against the rest of the world” engraving back where he had found it… Two days later, to John’s mild surprise, Sally was receiving the ring from Roger, her new boyfriend, now fiancé… John just smiled politely, congratulated the couple and left as soon as he was able

Ten days before Christmas, John found yet another box… Four in less than two weeks… It looked much like the others, simple, almost understated; and a bit weird engraving “Come at once” and John put it where he found it, right under the skull… Two days later, the ring was being placed on Ryan’s finger and John just shrugged, not wanting to think about his heart breaking four times already.

The last box he found under the tree, right on Christmas morning… The velvet box was inside another box, and another box, and another box, filled with enough paper to fill a paper store. He took the velvet box in his hands and opened it, his heart was thumping madly in his chest, his throat was dry and his eyes felt teary. He opened the box and found… nothing

Sherlock cleared his throat and John turned around “Eager?” Sherlock chuckled and approached him, a smug smile on his face

“Just curious” John shrugged and threw the little box to the side. Sherlock approached him and held him close, kissing him slowly and deeply

“I see you found all the rings” Sherlock chuckled again “Did you see the engravings?” John nodded and Sherlock could see his frustration “How many did you find?”

“Four” John sighed deeply and a bit sadly

“And what you think of the engravings?” Sherlock asked and John looked at him confused, Sherlock simply shook his head and held him impossibly closer “And the silly song goes?” Sherlock was holding John so close he could barely move

“What?” John asked Sherlock’s shoulder “What song?”

“That weird carol” John could sense Sherlock rolling his eyes

“Five golden rings?” John sing-sang the Christmas song

“And you found?” Sherlock continued teasing

“Oh God…” John groaned and Sherlock released him, going down on one knee and opening a blue velvet box and revealing a single white gold band

“Will you?” Sherlock asked, looking up at a very flushed John. John nodded and picked up HIS golden ring, the engraving summing up their entire relationship “Could be dangerous”


	20. In a New York winter wonderland

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Love?... You with me?” John smiled back  
> “Always” Sherlock replied

Another year, another Christmas and his best mate walking right beside him, Sherlock recalled the last time he’d been in New York before John, and it had been… awful… He shook his head to get rid of the memory and squeezed John’s hand, their gloved hands keeping the heat

Sherlock looked at John and John smiled that little smile that told Sherlock everything, they kept on walking until they reached their destination. John opened the door with his free hand and Sherlock helped him with the bags. They entered their building and went up to their flat

Sherlock couldn’t help but go down memory lane once again. He was walking around New York, looking for the last remnants of the smugglers ring and he noticed a window store decorated for Christmas, realising that moment that another Christmas had come and gone without John ‘Two’ Sherlock thought and shrugged further in the coat he was wearing, something to short, too small, and just not him he had to wear to walk around Brooklyn unseen

“Love?” John pulled his hand softly and Sherlock looked at him and smiled softly, he was with John, going to their flat in fifth and everything was forgiven “You with me?” John smiled back

“Always” Sherlock replied and leaned down to kiss him “Happy Christmas, John” He leaned down for another kiss and John giggled, he hadn`t noticed, until the kiss, that someone had hung some mistletoe in the lift


	21. How Sherlock got back his Christmas spirit

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> John’s worst Christmas was this one…

Forget The Woman, forget Magnussen, forget those two Christmases away from Sherlock, and all his childhood… John’s worst Christmas was this one…But it wasn’t the worst because he had been dumped, or because his best friend shot a man, it could have been because Sherlock was away, or maybe because being alone with his two children reminded him too much of his own childhood Christmases…

No, it was because Sherlock had got his Christmas spirit back and had decorated the entire flat to look like the freaking North Pole on crack, everywhere he looked he was reminded that Sherlock had to go to some undisclosed destinations because his prick of a brother in law was too lazy… oh God…

Knowing he’ll be absent, Sherlock had decorated the flat for his family, 221B looked, quite literally, like the North Pole on crack… a big tree with tinsel, white fairy lights, coloured baubles, a huge star on top. Coloured fairy lights strung all over the place, snow globes in every surface available, and of course, a huge pile of gifts under the tree

John sat on their sofa, watching how Christmas had hit Sherlock hard. John usually had to drag him around to get gifts, to decorate the flat, even to play a carol… He sighed deeply and looked at the snow globe they had bought in Moscow… That sure was an interesting trip… ‘Absence’ John thought and grabbed the snow globe from Paris… ‘Absence made Sherlock get his Christmas spirit back’ he shook his head and looked at the fireplace, their stocking hanging in front of the fire… He took a deep breath and closed his eyes… He missed the git

A soft kiss was placed to his forehead and John opened his eyes, he had fallen asleep at some point, he looked up and found Sherlock looking down at him, breathless, flushed, eyes red and nose cold “Hey” He smiled and pulled him to his lap

“Happy Christmas, love” Sherlock smiled at him and pulled some mistletoe out of his coat pocket, dangling it on top of their heads, smiling at John and kissing him deeply


	22. Four Christmases and a funeral

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> At five, Sherlock’s mother called them; Sherlock noticed she’d been crying and worried about her. She didn’t say a word and Sherlock went to his parent’s place only to find his father seating in front of the fire...

They had all planned. They’ll go to Molly’s for Christmas lunch, Christmas tea with Sally, Christmas Eve dinner with Mrs. Hudson and from there to Sussex to spend Christmas with the entire family.

They attended lunch; everything went as it was supposed to go, their teenage children acting the way they were supposed to act, like teenagers… Ariadna, Molly’s daughter, flirted with Hamish the entire lunch and by the time they had to leave, the mighty Holmesian pout made its appearance and they were forced to invite Molly’s family with them.

Tea at Sally’s went actually fine. It took less time than planned because DI Donovan was called for a case and Sherlock, the git, solved it in less than fifteen minutes… In order to apologise for the interrupted celebration, Sherlock invited them to dinner at their home in Sussex.

Mrs. Hudson was waiting for them, she had made a wonderful dinner for the five of them, dinner was a success, Martha had to make a few more biscuits, some more potatoes, Sherlock helped her and they all ate… all eleven of them…

The next morning, Sherlock had the car ready, all packed up to go to Sussex. They had Christmas brunch with his parents planned… all of them. They arrived promptly for brunch, shared a wonderful moment with Sherlock’s parents and got ready to prepare dinner.

At five, Sherlock’s mother called them; Sherlock noticed she’d been crying and worried about her. She didn’t say a word and Sherlock went to his parent’s place only to find his father seating in front of the fire, apparently asleep…

They prepared the funeral, dinner forgotten… Instead of Christmas mass, it became a funeral service… John gave Sherlock time to say goodbye to his father… Sherlock approached the casket and touched his father’s face softly; grazing the prominent cheekbones “I’ll miss you” he whispered and leaned down to kiss his father’s forehead “Thank you… Daddy” He swallowed hard and grazed his cheekbone again “Happy Christmas…” he stepped away, John was there, waiting for him, arms open


	23. Granddaddy?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I always forget my Dad is the World’s Only Consulting Detective”

Isabelle went up the stairs to her parent’s flat, practically running all the way up

“She’s got news” Sherlock said pouring some tea in a cup. John nodded and opened the door for their daughter

“Daddy!” She greeted excitedly and hugged John close, kissing his cheek and smiling at him

“Hello beautiful” John hugged her back and kissed her forehead “What brings you here this early on Christmas morning?” John asked as he led her to their kitchen

“I came to wish you a Happy Christmas” She approached Sherlock and hugged him from the back  “Hi Daddy” She kissed his shoulder and Sherlock turned to hug her properly

“Little love” He sighed into her head and hugged her close “Ready to give us your news?” He asked and smiled down at her, grabbing her flushing face in his hands

“I always forget my Dad is the World’s Only Consulting Detective” She smiled and looked at her father in the eyes, her eyes were stinging and she started crying. John was holding her from the back and Sherlock from the front, she was trapped in a hug between her parents and she allowed tears to fall freely from her eyes.

“It’s all right” John whispered in her ear and Bell nodded, resting her head in Sherlock’s chest like she usually did when she was little

“I do have news” Isabelle took a deep and shaky breath “Exciting news” she pulled an envelope from her pocket “Here” she handed it to John

“Is this…” John’s eyes were wide and he looked at Sherlock, smiling wildly. Isabelle nodded and Sherlock hugged her again, smiling like mad

“Happy Christmas…” She giggled “Granddaddy”


	24. I do

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> They opened their eyes when the officiant wished them a Happy Christmas and left the candlelit room…

He walked down the small aisle and looked at John. He looked gorgeous, more handsome than he had ever seen him, his eyes were bright, the bespoke suit fitted him perfectly, in one word, he looked dashing…

John looked down the aisle and his eyes locked with Sherlock’s, he looked gorgeous, the blue shirt made his eyes look of a deep green and John felt his heart swooning again

The room was lit with candles, Greg was on one side, Molly on the other, the officiant in the middle and he was waiting for Sherlock… All went in a blurry, mad, dash… They opened their eyes when the officiant wished them a Happy Christmas and left the candlelit room… The only thing they remembered was when the other had said “I do”  


	25. After all, It’s just tinsel

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You must know, Mister John Hamish Watson…” Sherlock turned on his heels and looked at his husband “Holmes” He punctuated his last name “That for the past forty one years I’ve thoroughly enjoyed Christmas, even though your jumpers horrified me” Sherlock turned to the tree again and threw more tinsel, cocking his head to the side and looking at the branch intently

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Last one... I hope you all have a Happy Chritsmas! Kisses and HUgs from Ecuador! Thank you so much for reading... Love you all!

“You look cheery” John looked up from his paper to the man that had been his husband for the last thirty five years

“It’s Christmas, John” Sherlock replied and continued humming while he threw some more tinsel over the tree

“You hate Christmas, my sweet love” John’s smirk was hidden behind the paper

“I never said that” Sherlock looked at another branch and calculated how much more tinsel he might need

“Yes, you did” John retorted, unable to stop the gleeful note to his affirmation

“You must know, Mister John Hamish Watson…” Sherlock turned on his heels and looked at his husband “Holmes” He punctuated his last name “That for the past forty one years I’ve thoroughly enjoyed Christmas, even though your jumpers horrified me” Sherlock turned to the tree again and threw more tinsel, cocking his head to the side and looking at the branch intently

John folded his paper and stood slowly from his chair… these days he did it a bit slower than ever, but it was because of the cold, and well… being seventy two wasn’t exactly helping… either. He approached his husband and hugged him from the back, kissing his back between his shoulders “Forty one years, huh?” John squeezed Sherlock a bit and forced him to turn in his arms

Sherlock turned, of course he did, and looked down to the man that had been his life for the past forty one years, that had become his husband thirty five years ago, that had been his colleague, friend, lover, husband, father to his children and more for so many years now. He nodded and leaned down, brushing his lips against John’s “Of course” He whispered “Since the first one, even though I was such an unpleasant arsehole” Sherlock kissed John fully and properly on the lips, getting a sigh from his husband

“That was my best Christmas ever…” John bit his lower lip and looked at Sherlock intently

“I hope I’ve given you better since then” Sherlock smiled lopsidedly

“Oh God, yes” John breathed out and pulled him down for another kiss

“My John” Sherlock sighed when they broke the kiss “I have to finish with the tree, they’ll be here at night fall” 

“I know” John fumbled a bit with Sherlock’s dressing gown before getting rid of the fabric “But…” He licked his lips

“It’s our first Christmas here, and after last year…” Sherlock couldn’t continue, John’s kiss to his pulse point doing wonderful things to his body “Help me after?” Sherlock whispered and John nodded, leading him to their bedroom

“See?” John panted in Sherlock’s ear “Already best Christmas ever” He kissed his ear

“You always say that” Sherlock took a deep breath and looked at John and couldn’t help but giggle

“You always do” John pulled out slowly and rested his head on Sherlock’s shoulder “So…” He sighed “Tree?”

“In a minute” Sherlock snuggled closer and held him “After all, it’s just tinsel”   


End file.
